


Today You're Mine

by jonnyluvssherlock



Series: Heat Dream, and The Days In Between [2]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Bottom John, Catlock, Heat Sex, M/M, Minor Violence, Morning Sex, Porn With Plot, Possessive Sherlock, it's all Lestrade's fault, toplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnyluvssherlock/pseuds/jonnyluvssherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wakes up to Sherlock laying on top of him, in full heat begging him to wake up so they can have sex.  John slips down his pants and tells Sherlock if he wants him, he can have him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halflock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halflock/gifts).



> i wrote this fic as part of a challenge. i was told the person i got likes catlock and smut so here we are. i was very much at a lost at what to write at first then while on a blog i ended up sending them a smut ask and realizing 2 seconds later that i could turn that into a fic. 
> 
> this fic works as a follow up for my unfinished fic Wrap Myself Around You. but that fic does not have to be read for you to understand this one. the other is just the first heat they spend together, this is the third.
> 
> i had the help of two beta's thesleepydetective and ovaryless they made this fic possible. at certain points i almost gave up and they made it so i didn't
> 
> Note: Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites such as goodreads or ebooks tree without my express permission.

John woke to a heavy warm feeling on his back and a gentle nudging at his arse, that was unmistakably Sherlock’s cock. It was clear that the heat that had started in Sherlock the day before was in full swing. As John became more alert, he could feel the tiny thrust against his clothed backside. He also became aware of the fact that Sherlock was nipping at his neck and whispering in his ear.

 

From what he could make out Sherlock, was saying his name and asking him to wake up. John wondered how long Sherlock had been dealing with the heat on his own to make him this desperate.

 

John moved his lower body under Sherlock slowly, eliciting a moan from the man above him. Then he slowly turned his head and looked over his shoulder. 

 

Sherlock, with no shirt on, was braced over him. He probably didn’t have pants on either. John ground up again, catching Sherlock’s cock between his arse cheeks. Sherlock’s feline ears shot straight up, and he dropped his face into John’s neck.

 

Then he began to purr. Not a real cats purr, because Sherlock’s body was mostly human and incapable of making sounds like that. But a deep rumbling sound from deep in his chest so similar to a purr that’s what the two of them called it.

 

John moaned aloud.

 

“John,”

 

“Yes Sherlock.”

 

“Want to, need to fuck you,” Sherlock rutted against his arse. “So bad, been waiting.”

 

John reached back and pulled his pants down enough to expose his arse. As he reached he felt Sherlock’s bare hip, and the man trembled as his fingers brushed against him. 

 

“Have at it.” He grinned at him as Sherlock stilled, and blinked a few times trying to catch up with what John was offering.

 

Slowly a hand reached under John’s pelvis and felt for his cock, which was hard and starting to drip with pre-cum. As Sherlock’s hand tightened around it, John gasped and thrust into his hand.

 

“Sherlock!” He whispered.

 

Sherlock kissed his neck, then his jaw, until John turned his head enough and Sherlock claimed his lips. When they parted they were both panting. 

 

“Just checking.”

 

John understood why, he just wished Sherlock didn’t feel like he needed to. They had been together for over two years. This would be there third heat together. John knew Sherlock’s internalized anxiety over the though that John would push him away during his heat. Or that John was pity fucking him instead of enjoying himself.

 

John reached up and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, then gently caressed the edge of a fuzzy cat ear sticking out of it.

 

“Fuck me Sherlock.” He whispered against his lips.

 

Sherlock groaned and grabbed John’s hip with one of his hands. He kissed John again, biting his lip softly, and then descended out of view. John felt Sherlock’s hand on his pants. He lifted his hips so Sherlock could pull them off .

 

He then felt Sherlock’s lips starting at his left ankle moving up his leg peppering kisses; Sherlock’s hands slid slowly up his legs after. When Sherlock got to his arse he nipped at it playfully, making John jump.

 

There was a pause and John tried not to moan from the loss of Sherlock’s touch. When his hands returned they were on John’s arse, spreading his cheeks. John opened his legs wider, making room for Sherlock.

 

John felt Sherlock’s curls against his lower back, and then Sherlock kissed him again while a finger played around his hole.

 

“Sherlock if you don’t hurry I’m going to cum on my own.”

 

Sherlock chuckled and the finger slid in. After the initial feeling of intrusion passed John started to rut back onto it.

 

“Still John, I need you still or I’ll stop and fuck you now.”

 

John sighed heavily and stopped moving. Sherlock murmured an encouragement as his second finger slid it. He moved to kiss John’s back again, letting his hair tickle. His tail, which John hadn’t felt until then, found it’s way to John’s right leg. It’s soft fur felt pleasant against John’s skin as it trailed up and down his calf.

 

John was patient as Sherlock worked up to four fingers inside him, careful not to touch John’s prostate too heavily. He wanted to thrust back but he knew how hard it was for Sherlock to stay calm enough to do this. Outside the heat they would take their time, foreplay could last an hour or more before they finally got down to it. During Sherlock’s heat, foreplay was all but abandoned, opening John up as quickly as he could before taking him.

 

The ten minutes Sherlock had spent opening him had taken energy and concentration. John could feel the finger trembling from the hand Sherlock had on his arse to keep him open.

 

“I’m good Sherlock.”

 

“Are you?” Sherlock bit into his hip.

 

“Yes.” 

 

Sherlock’s fingers stopped, then moved out of him. John felt Sherlock readjusting himself over him, and then felt Sherlock’s cock pressing on him. Sherlock entered slowly, his breathing labored. When he was all the way in, he pressed his forehead to the back of John’s head.

 

“I don’t think I can hold back.” Sherlock murmured into his hair. John looked over his shoulder at him, clenching the sheets in his hands. “Fuck me hard, leave a mark.”

 

Sherlock’s face dropped into his neck as he groaned. “Yes please, need so bad.”

 

Sherlock started to thrust into John slowly at first but with every pull he went faster, harder until John had to lift his chest up to breath. He pushed back as good as he got and angled his arse up for better access.

 

Sherlock growled above him and fucked him harder. John was lost in the pleasure. So often Sherlock was cautious and careful with him when all John wanted was to be fucked hard and fast over the first bit of furniture they came into contact with.

 

“John,” Sherlock said softly against John’s shoulder between kisses.

 

“Fuck, fuck me Sherlock.” John panted out. He was so close. “Fuck me wide open!”

 

Sherlock’s whole body shivered. He placed his hands on John’s hips and pulled John’s arse higher, so John could positioned his knees under him for better leverage. The new angle sent Sherlock’s cock right against his prostate. Three more thrusts into him and John came, his cock untouched. John groaned Sherlock’s name, and sagged slightly into the bed.

 

Sherlock sped up his tail wrapped around John’s calf. It was too much sensation after just coming, but it felt so good. John felt Sherlock’s teeth on his shoulder bite into him. John groaned again, and felt Sherlock’s body tense. Sherlock thrust a few more times and John felt him cum inside him. Then Sherlock stopped moving and let his weight push John against the bed. He lay heavily over John nipping and kissing John’s shoulder and neck.

 

“Mine,” he growled.

 

“Yes. Yours.”

 

Sherlock sucked on Johns neck for a moment, then pulled out of him. John felt empty, and a bit used. Sherlock’s hands skimmed over his back, down to his arse and pulling John’s cheeks apart. John figured he was making sure no damage had been done but then he felt the blunt edge of a toy being pushed into him.

 

“Sherlock what are you doing?”

 

“It won’t be long till I’ll be hard again, might as well save us some trouble.”

 

John laughed as the plug slipped all the way inside. “Admit it, you’ve got a kink for keeping me open so you can play.”

 

Sherlock didn’t respond, but the way his hands rubbed at John’s thighs made him think that was a yes.

 

John slowly turned over so he could see Sherlock better. He relaxed onto his back tried his best to ignore the wet spot under him. Sherlock smiled down at him, his ears twitching. John watched his tail moving behind him transfixed.

 

Sherlock’s hand touched his chest, skirting the edge of his bandage. John couldn’t help but think how he’d gotten hurt. 

 

The heat and the injury were, in part, Lestrade’s fault. The man hadn’t thought before he asked Sherlock and John to join him at a crime scene the day before, where everyone on duty (except Lestrade, apparently) could tell the victim's felisian wife was in the second day of her heat. As soon as Sherlock had entered the room she had stopped what she was doing and lunged for him, the primal side of her brain telling her he was a prime candidate for a mate.

 

Naturally, John had stepped in between. This had happened before at another crime scene, but he’d been in another room when it took place. He had heard a crash, and Sherlock’s voice calling for him. When he had reached him, Sherlock was trying to escape the woman’s arms. It had taken John and two others to get the woman off Sherlock, who had looked slightly traumatized.

 

As John stepped between Sherlock and the woman, she raised her hand with her claw-like nails, worn long and sharpened to a point. John didn’t have a chance to block it as her hand came down and dug into his chest. The nails ripped through his jacket, cardigan, and shirt into his skin. In his memory, the moment was blurry as Sherlock pulled him back, the woman lunging towards him again, seeing John as a threat to a mate. Donavan appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the woman, placing handcuffs around her wrists.

 

John had lain back against Sherlock, dazed as he yelled over at Lestrade about not inviting a felisian around when you had one in heat. They argued while the woman struggled against Donovan. Finally, Sally had just told Sherlock to go. Sherlock had tensed at being ordered about, but John gripped his hand, still holding him tightly to his chest. They looked at each other, and Sherlock nodded. 

 

That had been the end of their involvement in the case. The two of them had returned home to get the flat ready. While Sherlock and the woman had only been near each other a short period of time and she had never touched him, that had been enough for Sherlock to start showing his own signs of heat.

 

John looked at Sherlock seeing how much his injury bothered him. “It’s not your fault.” John reached up and Sherlock leaned down so John could cup his face with one of his hands. “It just…happened.”

 

“I should have been able to protect you. What kind of mate am I to let you get hurt like that?”

 

“I stepped between, it’s my own fault.”

 

Sherlock shook his head.

 

“It’s fine Sherlock.” John sighed knowing no matter what he said, Sherlock was going to blame himself.

 

“I wish I’d had a moment to explain. If she hadn’t been so lost in her grief, she probably would have been able to control herself.”

 

“And tell her what? Sorry I’m gay and my boyfriend wouldn’t like it if we fucked?”

 

The expression on Sherlock’s face told him that was exactly what he would have said. 

 

“Think it would have worked?” Sherlock paused thinking it over.

 

“No,” Sherlock settled down on top of him and pressed his nose into John’s collarbone. “She was too lost on a hormone high. Escape was our best option.”

 

John laughed as he threaded his fingers into Sherlock’s hair. “How long do you need before we go again?”

 

Sherlock hummed into John’s throat. “An hour, maybe less.”

 

John nodded.

 

“Then I’ll need to make you mine again.”

 

“I am, though” said John. Sherlock pushed up into his elbows so he could look at him. “I’m yours, always have been.”

 

Sherlock smiled and kissed him again.


End file.
